


scene 2014

by monarchs



Category: The Social Network (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cardistry, Hackers, Homelessness, Kleptomania, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pickpockets, Romance, Slice of Life, Street & Stage Magic, Ten Years Later, there's also a cat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-26 22:00:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20396827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monarchs/pseuds/monarchs
Summary: Mark got expelled from Harvard ten years ago when he made Facemash. In 2014, Eduardo is trying to recruit him for a startup company. One walk (and talk) down a street reveals much more than envisioned.





	scene 2014

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sundays](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sundays/gifts).
  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [【授权翻译】【TSN】scene 2014 2014一幕](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20676302) by [Vesuvius_Summer_Embers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vesuvius_Summer_Embers/pseuds/Vesuvius_Summer_Embers)

> Drabble song exchange with Sundays. Prompt was "windows".

"You mean hackers," Mark asked as he counted the crumply bills, which he had just 'earned' from a three-card monte hustle down at the pier.

It was funny how Mark could handle cards so deftly yet count bills so clumsily, Eduardo thought. He scratched the back of his neck, nervous, before replying, "_researchers_. We call them researchers— it's less scary to potential clients."

Mark scoffed. He gave Eduardo a brief and bored glance before leaning into the street and looking out for cars. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he crossed the road. Eduardo hurried along, barely looking out for cars, only really looking at Mark's curls, feeling a little flustered.

When they got to the other side of the street, Mark said, matter-of-factly, "there was this research done in the nineteen-twenties on the mental ages of human adults." 

Eduardo frowned. This didn't sound all that relevant, or promising. "Oh … okay?" 

"They debunked the previous – and rather _generous_ – theory that the average human mental age was 16 years old," Mark continued, tone flat. "They proved that it was 13, instead."

"Is there a point to this—"

"I sincerely believe that the number needs to be updated. I'm estimating… 9 years old."

"Right and—"

"Your clients are clearly a bunch of average nine-year-old pussies if they are unnerved by the word 'hacker'," Mark clarified. 

Eduardo scowled, feeling fairly unnerved. "You took three exchanges to build up an insult aimed at people who aren't even here?"

"The question is," Mark said casually, "what does that make _you_?"

Eduardo adjusted his tie uncomfortably.

"Hey—! Watch where you're going, punk!" a man in a distasteful suit with a squiggly shoulder line shouted as they passed by him. A woman dangled from his arm, and she looked at them both a little judgingly, her hip jutting, her eyes narrowing. Mark put his hands up and gave a sort of mock apologetic expression.

When the couple walked away, Eduardo turned around only to realize that Mark, who looked completely unperturbed, was examining the small print on the back of a gold watch.

A watch that was definitely not his.

"How did you—" Eduardo exhaled deeply, glancing back at the unsuspecting man before pinching the skin between his eyes and catching up to Mark.

"You're trying to convert black-hats. You think _I'm_ a black-hat," Mark said as he pocketed the watch. "Some kind of social pariah that needs to be reinvented."

Eduardo pointed at Mark's pocket. "How many watches are in that pocket?"

"Just the one," Mark said. Eduardo couldn't tell if he was telling the truth or lying. "You think I make money hacking illegally," Mark reiterated. 

Eduardo gestured at Mark's pocket again, floundered a little before giving up. "I know what a black-hat is. I wasn't born yesterday—" he groaned, "I don't think you're a black-hat—I just remember that thing you did back in Harvard that got you expelled. Facesmash? Facemash?"

"You remember Facemash."

"Of course, I do. I wrote the algorithm. On your window, in your suite. You broke up with Erica Albright that night. You were blogging about it on Livejournal. Then I went to your room, and you asked me to show you the algorithm I used for ranking chess players—"

Mark studied Eduardo for a hot minute. Then, quite unexpectedly, he said, "right. I almost forgot you used to have a crush on me."

Eduardo spluttered and almost tripped over nothing. "E-Excuse me?"

Mark looked at him for another beat, then shrugged, saying, "you probably still do."

Eduardo flushed up a little, but quickly decided to change the subject. "My friend Eaton— he's starting up this company. He used to work with the NSA. Anyways— we already have investors. Cybersecurity is a big thing now; just recently with JPMorgan Chase— you've heard about it, right? 76 million households were affected— _76 million_. Anyways— we're just recruiting all the talent we can get. And I told him about you. I told him you crashed Harvard's internet server in the middle of the night with a single website. I think you'd be a strong asset. And it's a proper job. Nothing shady—"

"Your friend Eaton would do better than to trust someone like me."

"You're insulting my sense of judgment."

"I always have."

"What does that mean?"

Mark stepped into a thrift store without much warning, pulling the glass door open but not holding it for Eduardo. 

Eduardo grimaced as he tried to squeeze through the gap. "Didn't The Mentor say something about it being a world of ‘the electron and the switch’ out there— what are you buying?"

Mark was sweeping a bunch of standard Bicycle and Tally-Ho playing cards into his basket. "Cards wear easily," he explained, though it didn’t enlighten Eduardo one bit. "You can quote the manifesto? Who _does_ that?"

Eduardo exhaled as steadily as he could. This was a lot harder than he had envisioned.

"Hold this for me?" Mark asked, except he didn't wait for an answer before plopping a plastic bag of what seemed like six bricks of playing card decks in Eduardo's arms. Eduardo was about to protest, but Mark started haggling with the clerk, so Eduardo had to wait for the exchange to finish, and by the time the haggling finished, Eduardo had given up. He held onto the bag as they walked out, wind chimes dangling behind them.

"Do you live nearby?" Eduardo asked.

"I crash on Sean's couch," Mark said, vaguely. "It changes every week though. This week it's nearby."

Eduardo grimaced. "Who's Sean?"

Mark studied Eduardo with an inscrutable expression. Shrugging, he answered, "an entrepreneur."

"So… unemployed."

"No. Just a little broke."

Eduardo walked in front of Mark. "See. _This_ is a good opportunity."

"How much per hour?"

Eduardo flinched. "Well— we're just starting. And we pay depending on what kind of vulnerability you find, and how many, and how fast."

"Small casinos pay 30 per hour to deal cards."

"You're a card dealer? Like— a Blackjack dealer?"

Mark shrugged. "If I must respond; I'm good with my hands." He took out a card from a sleeve and started pivoting it around his fingers.

Eduardo looked down at Mark's hands before looking back up. _God_. "You've been … you've been doing this for a while, haven't you?"

Mark shrugged before walking into a small grocer's store and grabbing a can of tuna from a bottom shelf. He put the exact change on the counter, snatched a paper bag after nodding at the man who was piling tomatoes at the stand, and walked out. Eduardo quickened his pace, trying to keep up. 

"Why don't you recruit at hacker conferences?" Mark said, stuffing the can into the bag. "Defcon? H.O.P.E.?"

"We'd rather use people we know. I mean— we open booths there too, but—"

It started raining a little, and Mark put on his hoodie. Eduardo had forgotten his umbrella at the hotel, so he just hunched forward and walked faster. "Shit," Eduardo mumbled under his breath. He really didn't want to ruin his suit, if he could help it. 

Mark turned into an alleyway so quick Eduardo almost missed him. He frowned only to realize he was already frowning. "Mark?"

When he walked in, Mark was kneeling down on the ground, in front of a tattered cardboard box turned upside down on top of the gap between two crates. When Eduardo approached, he saw that there was a cat – a black one, and a rather small one – sat there, alert and mildly frightened, her ears flattened and pointed backwards.

Eduardo stood underneath a sort of canopy over a sealed door, sheltering from the rain. Mark took out the can from the paper bag and opened it with a Swiss knife he took out from his pocket. The cat glanced at Eduardo suspiciously, but then when Mark placed the open can down, she stretched and then ate from the can. Mark scratched her head before standing up and moving on. 

"Why did your friend Eaton stop working at the NSA? What did he do?" Mark asked as they moved onto the street again.

Eduardo sighed. "He was a senior analyst. Um, I'm guessing he wanted to start something new. He saw the problem, and the serious lack of people trying to resolve it, and then decided he had to do something about it."

Mark looked at Eduardo. "That's what he said?"

"It's… the impression he gave me."

"How long have you known him?"

"5 years. He's— he's a good guy. You remember Dustin? Dustin knows him too. They were friends first. I met him at a conference later on."

The rain poured harder, forcing them to step under the overhang of a store and stay put. Mark took out a few cards from his pocket. They were faced down. He fanned them lightly so that Eduardo could see that there were three of them.

"Want to see a trick?" Mark asked.

Eduardo exhaled, looked around, gauging how long they'd be stuck there. "Find the queen?" he assumed wearily. 

Mark smiled briefly, dimples flashing for a millisecond. "No. Not exactly."

Eduardo licked his lips. "Alright. But no money involved, I'm not betting anything," Eduardo said.

Mark nodded. "Wise decision."

"Just get on with it."

Mark showed him a first card, "here's a King."

"Okay," Eduardo said, frowning. The design of the card looked elegant. It was a King of Spades.

"Eaton could be a King we should all follow," Mark said. He placed the King on top of the cards. "Or, for all we know, he could be a joker who'll fool us." He lifted the top card again, revealing a joker instead.

Before Eduardo could say anything, Mark shuffled the cards clumsily. Eduardo followed the joker card attentively, which had gone to the bottom of the pile. 

"Thing is, jokers are pretty cool too, right? It's just that they're tricky to work with," Mark said.

He pinched the middle card out now. It was a joker. He placed it back in, then lifted the top card. It was a joker too. "At one point he might overwhelm us, take us by surprise."

Eduardo stared at Mark's hands. "Where's the King?"

Mark lifted his hand so that the bottom card was showing. "On the bottom. Pay attention."

"I—" Eduardo decided not to say anything. "Your point?"

Mark held a hand up and then said, "you haven't been listening," he showed the bottom card which was a Joker now, "what I'm saying is that he'll fool us all."

He showed the second card, which was a Joker too, and then the third which was a Joker as well.

"You mean there's a chance that he will—"

Mark shook his head. "You're not getting it." He flipped the first card. It was a King. Then, keeping the King visible, he flipped the second card, and it was a Joker. "Assuming we have a King, and then a Joker. What would be the last card?"

Eduardo looked at Mark, tired and confused. "I don't know."

Mark gave Eduardo a bored look before flipping it over, revealing an Ace of Hearts with a credit card stuck to it.

It was Eduardo's credit card.

Eduardo promptly felt for his pocket, realizing his card-holder wasn't there anymore. "_Mark_," he said, his tone a touch angry.

"It's called misdirection," Mark explained, casually. He put his cards away.

"You mean you distracted me with a nonsensical story about who the real fool is," Eduardo said. Mark handed Eduardo back the credit card, and then his card-holder, which he had taken out from his pocket. Eduardo took the opportunity to hand Mark's bag of playing cards over.

"I took _three exchanges to build up an insult_ aimed at people who aren't even here," Mark said, monotone, smiling winningly. "I'm anything but inefficient, Wardo."

_Shit_, Eduardo thought. He looked at his credit card, thought about how that research about mental ages did distract him completely (from the nineteen twenties! It probably wasn't even true), and then looked back at Mark, more in exasperated awe than in anger now.

"Actually, the real takeaway," Mark said, "is that you shouldn't ever trust a street hustler." The rain died down, so Mark stepped out and started crossing the road.

Eduardo bit his bottom lip, tried to think for a while, and then quickly followed.

"But you're creative. We need people like you," Eduardo said.

Mark gave Eduardo a sidelong glance. "_You_ don't need me."

"Yes, _I_ need you," Eduardo affirmed. 

Mark raised an eyebrow. "You're persistent to a fault."

"Where do you live now?" Eduardo asked. "Do you really change places all the time? It must be inconvenient. You could come live at my place— if you need a place— it's spacious— you'll have your own room— you can stay for free—"

Mark sighed. "I can't."

Eduardo blinked. "You can't what?"

"Sean. I can't leave him."

Eduardo frowned. "Is he your... boyfriend or something?"

"No," Mark said firmly, his nose wrinkling a little. "But he's a friend."

Eduardo softened his expression. "Okay. I can understand that."

Mark looked at him a little uncomfortably, and this time, it was clear that he wasn't acting it. He stopped in front of a building, and then pointed at the other side of the road. There was a driveway that went between two low apartment complexes. Mark was pointing in the vague direction of a fire escape right above it.

"I live at that window. Right now, anyways," Mark said, hunching his shoulders. 

Eduardo smiled tightly, looking at it. It had blue curtains. How ironic. "Nice catching up with you, then."

Mark shook his head. "I— We'll get kicked out soon. Sean will take all the money I've got and then find some other place to crash at."

Eduardo bit his lower lip. He took out his card-holder and grabbed for a business card. Mark produced a same one in his fingers in the next second. "I took the liberty to grab one for myself."

Eduardo sighed, took the card from Mark’s fingers and flipped it over, writing his address on the back. "Here's my home address," he handed it back to Mark.

Mark looked at the address, a little entranced.

"Why. Why would you—"

"Look, I don't know Sean. But he doesn't seem like someone who should be your life constant," Eduardo said. "Maybe a friend, but not a constant."

Mark nodded slowly, frowning.

Eduardo exhaled and reached out, hesitant at first, but then determined. He pushed a curl from Mark's face, and then ruffled his hair. Mark groaned, but he didn't seem too annoyed by it. He looked up at Eduardo. 

"You're blindsided by your crush on me," Mark said. He actually looked concerned.

Eduardo exhaled. "And you've been trying to warn me this entire time because…" he waited for Mark to say something, but he didn't.

He only looked away. 

"I should have gotten expelled too," Eduardo said. "But I didn't. You told the Ad Board it was all you."

"It _was_ all me."

"You told them that it was _your_ algorithm on your window."

"That was ten years ago, Wardo. I don't remember what I told them."

"I trust you," Eduardo said.

Mark looked at Eduardo in this sort of sad way. "You shouldn't."

Eduardo approached him. "You called me Wardo."

Mark licked his lips nervously. "I always do."

Eduardo smiled, feeling a little fond. "You had a crush on me too."

"You're about ten, eleven years late, give or take," Mark said.

"Why didn't you say anything? Especially when you knew I—"

"I got _expelled_. I didn't think I was worth— your father wouldn't have liked it—"

Eduardo leaned in and pressed his lips against Mark's.

There was a spark – something woke up, deep in Eduardo's gut, and he pressed a little harder.

Mark's lips were softer than he had imagined.

"Wha—" Mark pulled back suddenly, his sleeve against his mouth.

"You didn't like it?" Eduardo asked, a little hurt.

Mark reddened. "What."

"The kiss."

Mark thought for a bit, unblinking, then stepping away, seeming a little light-headed. "I'll think about the job."

Eduardo nodded, then flushed up. "And the kiss?"

Mark licked his lips. "I should go," he said, looking at the window. 

"Okay," Eduardo responded.

Mark shifted on his feet for a bit, and then, leaned forward and grabbed Eduardo down by his front pocket and pulled him in for another kiss.

It startled Eduardo, to say the least, but he quickly melted into it, smiled against Mark's lips. 

"Of course, I liked it," Mark whispered against his mouth. "But you really need to work on some kind of buildup."

"Sean! Mark!" someone called out, distantly. Pots and pans clanked, and a dog started barking, sending the pigeons fleeing from the area.

Mark gave the window a mean glare before looking back at Eduardo. "I'm guessing it'll be sooner than later," he said, with a sense of finality, before leaving Eduardo, crossing the road and disappearing when a van passed by.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Eduardo was about to walk off, a little baffled (was it a yes? was it a no?), when he almost tripped over something. He looked down, finding the black cat Mark had fed, purring against his legs.

He bent down to pet the cat, only to find that something fell out of his front pocket.

He picked it up.

It was a card, one of the cards that Mark had used for the trick he showed Eduardo.

It was the Ace.

And there was a phone number on it.

Eduardo smiled, pocketed it, and then, picked up the cat, decided he wanted to keep her too. She licked his palm and curled into the crook of his arm, as if she wasn't intending on going anywhere for a while.

He glanced one last time at the window of the apartment before climbing into the cab, heading back home, feeling like he’d just stepped into a new chapter of his life. A new day, a new beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Again, comments and kudoses are very much welcomed and loved - I always want to know what you think. Revive TSN 2019 still going strong.
> 
> The three-card magic trick (not the three card monte hustle) is based off of one taught by Chris Ramsay.


End file.
